The Baroness, shocked and startled, rose to go, feeling that her
presence longer would be an intrusion.
"Do not go," cried the Judge in tones of distress. "Mabel is nearly
distracted, and this news will excite her still further. We thought
this morning that she was on the verge of serious mental disorder. I
sent for her fiance, Mr Cheney, and he has calmed her somewhat. You
always exerted a soothing and restful influence over my wife, and you
may have the same power with Mabel. Stay with us, I beg of you,
through the afternoon at least."
The Baroness sent her carriage home and remained in the Lawrence
mansion until the following morning. The condition of Miss Lawrence
was indeed serious. She passed from one attack of hysteria to
another, and it required the constant attention of her fiance and her
mother's friend to keep her from acts of violence.
It was after midnight when she at last fell asleep, and Preston
Cheney in a state of complete exhaustion was shown to a room, while
the Baroness remained at the bedside of Miss Lawrence.
When the Baroness and Mr Cheney returned to the Palace they were
struck with consternation to learn that Miss Dumont had packed her
trunk and departed from Beryngford on the three o'clock train the
previous day.
A brief note thanking the Baroness for her kindness, and stating that
she had imposed upon that kindness quite too long, was her only
farewell. There was no allusion to her plans or her destination, and
all inquiry and secret search failed to find one trace of her. She
seemed to vanish like a phantom from the face of the earth.
No one had seen her leave the Palace, save the laundress, Mrs Connor;
and little this humble personage dreamed that Fate was reserving for
her an important role in the drama of a life as yet unborn.